Page 77 of Wicked and Ruthless

“If I had, what would you have said?” When tears rolled down her cheeks, he wiped them away with gentle thumbs. “Baby?”

Her first impulse was a resounding yes. All her adult life, she’d ached for love, for the comfort and gentle familiarity of her person, for him to be there for her, protect her, and bolster her. To lift her up during long days of life battering away at her spirit. To light her on fire with long nights of connection and pleasure. And for a few brief, shining months, she’d had that with Nash. Being with him then… She’d feared it was too good to be true.

Finally came that terrible day she had been proven right.

After that, could they really go back? The chances of finding happily ever after now seemed so unlikely. But that didn’t stop her foolish heart from yearning.

“I don’t know. I would have wanted…” Haisley stopped herself. Her trembling words served no purpose except to torment them both. And what good would it do them now for her to admit how much she would have loved to be his wife? “But I don’t think we would have lasted.”

“Why the hell would you think that?”

She bit back the terrible truth. It would do nothing but hurt him, and after all the pain she’d heaped on him tonight, Haisley refused to add more.

She snuffed out that little spark of hope and wrenched from his embrace. “I-I don’t want to talk about this. It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s over. It’s done. It’s?—”

“Not. I loved you.” He vaulted to his feet, his expression insistent, like he willed her to believe him. “I’m half convinced I still do.”

Her heart caught and twisted. God, how happy those words made her, even as they destroyed her. She didn’t deserve his love.

“You don’t. You missed me. I missed you so, so much while I lived in California. I went on exactly two dates in two years, and I couldn’t bring myself to let either of them touch me. I just…” Shit, she was mucking this up. “My vibrator and my memories of you got a hell of a workout. But?—”

“You haven’t had sex with anyone since me?” He sounded flabbergasted.

That probably made no sense to him because he’d apparently had a revolving door to his bed since she’d split, but she wanted to be as honest as she could. “No.”

He closed his eyes and heaved a pained sigh. “Fuck. Baby… If I had known…”

“I’m not naive. I realize you haven’t been alone. And I never expected… Why would I think that? I left you. You must have been angry.”

“Furious. And confused, not to mention heartbroken as fuck. What do we do now? You still have feelings for me. I fucking know that from the way you touch me. We can’t let what we have get away from us again.”

Nash wanted to fight for them. Some part of her loved that. Some part of her wanted to fight along with him. But it was futile, over before it had really begun. “I think it’s too late. This”—she gestured between them—“trying to revisit the past… It was a mistake. Now we have to work together, and these disappearing women?—”

“Have nothing to do with us. We’re giving them every bit of our effort and attention?—”

“Are we? You have Benedict’s burner phone in your pocket, and your brother should be examining it right now.”

“Don’t use that as an excuse. I’ll get the device to my brother in the morning, as soon as he wakes up. He’ll have it figured out in under an hour, I’ll bet.”

“Still, I’m sorry I derailed you. I’m sorry I messed up everything. Next time I’m overwhelmed and need comfort, and I lose my clothes and beg you, tell me no.”

“That’s never going to happen. I’m never going to say no to you, and I’m never going to give up on us. Why would you? Why are you so fucking eager to throw away what we could have if we just fucking tried?”

How the hell was she supposed to answer that without baring the worst horror of her life and fucking him up for good?

Suddenly, Haisley heard her phone trill downstairs and froze. Saved by the bell?

Unless… Was that Mila? Had the woman figured out that she’d been sneaking around the office earlier? Had she told Mr. Benedict? Was she going to be fired? Or worse, arrested?

“I need to get that.” She darted for the door.

Nash tried to haul her back. “Don’t you think our conversation is pretty fucking important?”

Yes, but she couldn’t say more. Reality threatened to destroy her again, and she didn’t know how she’d survive another heartbreak.

Haisley pulled from his grip and dashed down the stairs. When she reached her purse and fished out her phone, the caller ID flashed with Charli’s name and photo. Haisley’s gut clenched. Her friend almost never called this late unless it was important.

“Hey, Charli. You okay?” Haisley lowered herself onto the sofa in the nearby living room. When she heard Nash pad down the stairs after her, she covered her naked breasts with a nearby throw pillow self-consciously.

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